


Bruises and Longing

by beanstalks



Category: Falsettos - Lapine/Finn
Genre: Angst, Blood, Bruises, Care, Domestic, M/M, Marvin is a dumbass, Pain, Pining, it's mainly marvin and whizzer, marvin likes black coffee, the other characters are just mentioned, they deserve everything and i didn't give it to them, this is full angst boys, this is in between act one and two, whizzer is kinda fucked up
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-27
Updated: 2019-07-27
Packaged: 2020-07-22 20:29:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,492
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19995994
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beanstalks/pseuds/beanstalks
Summary: Marvin misses his ex, so when he turns up on his doorstep in the middle of the night covered in cuts and bruises, he HAS to take him in.





	Bruises and Longing

Marvin was lonely. Sure, he had his family, and his newfound friends in his neighbours, but something was off. Though he had somewhat of a support group around him, he couldn’t help but feel… alone.

He missed Whizzer.

It’d been about a year since Marvin had clumsily broken off their relationship - something that had taken him a lot of self-reflection to realise he regretted - and nothing felt the same. His bed felt empty and cold, his mornings, once filled with playfully insulting his boyfriend in their bed, were instead spent curled up at his kitchen counter with a black coffee cradled in his hands. The bathroom was lacking in any of Whizzer’s favourite gels and skin-care, and the things that they had bought together had been moved into the guest room. Marvin’s wardrobe had returned to its depressing state, any shirts that would remind him of his old lover had also been moved away to cause less pain. Marvin’s diet consisted of less home-made meals (apart from the ones that Cordelia had made and brought over to ‘cheer him up’) and more Chinese takeout. The guest room hadn’t been touched since around six months ago, which involved Marvin looking at the miscellaneous things scattered around and promptly closing the door.

It wasn’t like he could even get into contact with Whizzer, and it was much less likely that he’d feel the same way, or even miss him at all. As far as he was aware, his family cut ties as soon as they weren’t forced to communicate with him. So he was stuck. Stuck missing his old lover, unable to move on. Charlotte and Cordelia had tried to introduce him to men they knew, but nothing brought back the thrill he felt when Whizzer smiled at him or the rush of love in his gut when Whizzer held his hand.

It was a suitably rainy night when he saw Whizzer again. It was late - probably around one or two in the morning. Marvin had just finished watching a late-night TV programme and was about to turn in when he heard the sound of his doorbell. He wrapped his robe around himself and slowly paced down the stairs. It was unlikely that Charlotte or Cordelia had come over this late, though it had happened before (they were drunkenly making a cake and needed some flour). Marvin flicked the curtain in his living room back to see that his neighbour’s lights were off. So, who was at the door? Surely Jason hadn’t run off and found his way over - he was usually happy to stay at his mother’s now that Whizzer wasn’t in the picture. Marvin felt a familiar pang in his chest as he remembered his lover. _But that isn’t important right now,_ he thought fervently. He silently cursed the fact that he didn’t have a window that had a view of his front porch as the doorbell rang again. He quickly grabbed the baseball bat from the hall, beginning to fear that the visitor was someone unwanted, and slowly unlocked and opened the door.

And there, shivering on his porch, was none other than Whizzer Brown.

He hadn’t seen him in around a year, and he wasn’t looking very good. His hair was matted to his forehead, which had a rather large and bloody cut in it. His eye was blackened, and he was bent over, gripping his stomach. But it was undoubtedly his ex-lover. Instead of his usual bright spark behind the eyes, all that Marvin saw was dull tiredness. Putting the bat back behind the door, he stood awkwardly in front of the staggering man.

“Whizzer,” He stated, simply. He cringed a little at the emotion he let free in his voice. He was usually good at hiding his emotions, but Whizzer was different, his presence brought something out of him. Marvin was unsure if he was even allowed to touch him. Concern was panging in his chest, and he wanted nothing more than to pull him inside out of the night and take care of the cuts and bruises clearly present on his usually flawless face, but if Whizzer pushed him away, he didn’t think he could handle it. Whizzer’s unfocused eyes finally met his own, and he let out a ragged breath.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t know where else to go,” The voice was quiet, but instantly feelings bubbled up inside Marvin’s gut. Whizzer swayed, but straightened his posture as much as he could, wincing. He opened his mouth, eyes flashing with as many emotions as someone in his state could bear, but before he could speak -

Marvin saw his eyes roll back and luckily had enough sense to lunge forward, catching the taller man in his arms. _Damnit,_ he cursed inwardly. Couldn’t he have stayed conscious long enough to place himself onto Marvin’s couch? Marvin hefted Whizzer’s upper body against his shoulder, quickly looking around to make sure no one was watching him. There was no car present, which brought Marvin to the conclusion that he had _limped_ his way to his house. The thought of someone in his state walking alone in the rainy night made Marvin’s throat dry.

_But he’s safe. I’m going to make sure of it._

\-------------

After an agonising five minutes of struggling to get Whizzer’s unconscious frame onto his couch, Marvin was tired. But the concern that coursed through his body now that he could see Whizzer’s bruised face clearly had pushed away any exhaustion his body faced.

He’d been beaten. Badly. His nose had swollen up, and there was blood on his lips. The cut on his forehead looked deeper now that he was in the soft light of the living room lamp, and his black eye had begun to swell up. Marvin cursed under his breath as he looked at Whizzer’s bruised knuckles. _At least he tried to defend himself._

Charlotte had forced him to keep a first aid kit after being shocked that he didn’t own one, and had then given him a crash course in basic first aid. Marvin only debated calling her over for a second before dismissing the thought. Cordelia and Charlotte didn’t know about Whizzer, not yet anyway. And he didn’t want to bother them this late with something he could handle himself.

He found the first aid kit and quickly dampened a towel with warm water, returning to the couch and placing them down. He first grabbed the towel and began dabbing at the cuts on Whizzer’s face, hoping to God that he didn’t wake up and see Marvin this close. He looked at the wet pale pink shirt that clung to Whizzer’s frame, seeing a few spots of blood seeping through, and sighed before pulling the shirt up over his head, manoeuvring the limp arms out of the armholes and wincing as he saw the myriad of bruises and cuts that lay over Whizzer’s torso. _Who did this to him?_ Marvin thought, feeling anger bubbling in his gut. He hoped that Whizzer had gotten a few good punches on them as well.

Once the wounds were suitably cleaned of dried blood, Marvin got around to disinfecting and bandaging them. It was a steady process, especially when the unconscious body stirred, and Marvin backed off, praying that he wouldn’t wake up.

Marvin flopped down onto the couch beside his ex-lover once he was satisfied with his job. It was messy, and Charlotte could have done much better, but Marvin knew he couldn’t get his friends involved. After a short break, Marvin cursed his own idiocy for not doing the patching up on his bed, as he’d now have to lug Whizzer’s body up the stairs to where he could sleep comfortably. He couldn’t let Whizzer sleep on the uncomfortable (it was more for show) and now slightly blood-stained couch. He hauled himself up and draped Whizzer’s arm over his shoulders, heaving the man up. He gripped another hand around Whizzer’s waist and began stumbling over to his stairs.

It was slow-going, especially when Whizzer’s head kept lolling around and he kept almost stirring. Marvin thanked whoever blessed the idiot with the ability to sleep through nearly _everything_. Before letting Whizzer flop down onto his bed, he made sure to find the shirt he would probably approve of the most in his wardrobe and pulled it over his head. Marvin noted that some blood may leak through onto his bedsheets, and briefly debated putting a blanket or towel down, before deciding that he didn’t care and tucking the blankets over his body.

It felt surreal to see Whizzer back in his bed. Now that he was settled, his bruised face looked almost peaceful, and the resemblance to how it used to be sent pangs of pain through Marvin’s stomach. _But it’s not the same,_ he reminded himself. _It won’t ever be the same._

It still didn’t stop him from brushing the hair away from Whizzer’s forehead and planting a soft kiss there.

After stumbling back down the stairs and haphazardly throwing a pillow and blanket onto his couch, curling up on them, Marvin fell asleep. It had been an exhausting couple of hours, and staying awake would have meant beginning to overthink what would happen in the morning.

\-------------

What _would_ happen is Marvin would slowly wake up and make his usual cup of coffee, avoiding going anywhere near where Whizzer would be, just in case he wasn’t there anymore.

He didn’t think he could handle if he’d just disappeared, without a word.

Marvin hadn’t been staring into his coffee for long before he heard movement from upstairs. It was around noon, and he’d been debating going to check if Whizzer was even still there for about ten minutes. He waited around five minutes before feeling a presence at the door to the kitchen and looked up to meet Whizzer’s eyes.

He looked a little better, which would probably be due to the rest he’d gotten. His eyes were more focused, though the bruises still looked bad. The shirt fit him well, and Marvin had to tear his gaze away to focus on his eyes. Whizzer looked like he was confused as to what to say. What _do_ you say, after showing up at your ex's doorstep bloody and bruised a year after you’d broken up?

“I was looking for you,” Whizzer finally said, voice hoarse. He cleared his throat. “I thought you might be in the guest room, but it’s full of... things.” Marvin broke the uneasy eye contact they’d been keeping up and gestured towards the coffee pot, listening for the soft ‘please’ that came from the man. It almost made him smile. Almost.

Whizzer took a precarious seat on the edge of one of Marvin’s kitchen stools, watching Marvin’s every move as he prepared Whizzer’s favourite - some creamy mess that Marvin always mocked. He’d tried it once and promptly decided that the drink was so _Whizzer_ that he couldn’t possibly have it again. Whizzer had settled into the stool by the time the drink was pushed over to him, and he gave a sheepish ‘thank you’. Marvin watched him drink and grimace - his lip was healing. A hot beverage probably wasn’t a good idea. After Whizzer gave an affirmative nod at the taste of the drink, Marvin spoke up.

“You were pretty fucked up last night,” he began. He didn’t even know how to talk to him anymore. The gap that had formed between them felt too big to bridge on a windy morning where both of them were still healing - physically and emotionally.

“I know,” came the quiet response. Another swig of the coffee, and another grimace. “You probably don’t want to see me. You were the last resort.” Marvin ignored the small bit of pain that stung in his gut. _Of course I’m the last resort, we_ **_broke up_ ** _._

“I tried my best, but I’m not very skilled at medicine,” Marvin began, eyes trailing over his haphazard job of trying to fix up his ex-lover.

“I mean, you did try. Some of the bandaging jobs are pretty awful,” Whizzer chuckled, and Marvin could feel all of his feelings about him flooding back. He quickly put on a frown, pushing down the urge to ask Whizzer if he could kiss him.

“Alright, remind me next time you show up staggering out on my porch in the rain to _leave you there_ , asshole.” Marvin huffed, turning around to wash his mug, hiding a soft smile. Whizzer let out a laugh, a genuine one, and Marvin closed his eyes, savouring the sound of it. _Fuck,_ he _missed him._

“If there is a _next time_ , I’m going to make sure I don’t decide that my ex's house is the best place to go.” Marvin’s smile faded as he was reminded of what kind of situation they were in. Whizzer would leave, and Marvin would be left pining after him for another God knows how long. 

He heard Whizzer shift out of his chair, bringing his mug over to the sink, and Marvin was half-aware that he was shaking. He felt a gentle touch on his arm and turned to look up. Whizzer looked concerned, and Marvin let out a shaky laugh. _Of course, he’s worried about me when he looks on the brink of death._ Whizzer’s arms wrapped around Marvin’s bony frame, and Marvin reciprocated instantly, burying his face into the taller man’s shoulder. He still smelled the same, though Marvin couldn’t quite place the scent.

“Thank you,” Whizzer murmured into Marvin’s ear, and for a second, Marvin was okay. He began to squeeze tighter before the sharp inhale from Whizzer reminded him that he was injured, which made Marvin retreat and let go. Whizzer looked sad for a moment, before hiding it behind a concerned smile. Marvin really just wanted to live in this moment forever, having Whizzer in his life again felt surreal. But Whizzer broke the moment with his gentle words.

“I have to go, Marv.” He gripped Marvin’s hand, squeezing it gently. Marvin was about to object, but Whizzer silenced him by pressing their lips together quickly. Marvin stood motionless for a moment, watching as Whizzer grabbed the notebook and pen from Marvin’s counter and scribbled something down. He passively followed Whizzer to the door and watched as he slid on his shoes that Marvin had left there the night before, waving goodbye with a sad smile.

Marvin watched him limp away until it would be weird to continue, and shut the door, walking back to the kitchen in a shocked daze. His eyes fell upon the notebook Whizzer had scribbled in before leaving.

“Tell Jason I said hi. I miss you.” 

Marvin saw the tears fall onto the paper before he knew he was crying. And Marvin _didn’t cry._ But anything to do with Whizzer was different, and he’d just realised what Whizzer had smelt like.

He smelt like _home_.

**Author's Note:**

> i'm kinda proud of this one yote  
> gimme some love because these two deserve a lot of fluff and i did not give them any today  
> 


End file.
